Inhuman

Every day gives me a new migraine,
I can't even crawl out of my skin.
My heart can't take much more,
What's left of my soul is going to implode.
I hate to see the sun each morning,
Dreading the next atrocity to cross my path.
Even my body is fighting against itself.
Each night is just another opportunity for nightmares,
This world makes me unbearably angry.
How could this even be allowed to happen?
Why does everyone turn a blind eye?
Pretend this hasn't even happened?
Or that it can be lived through without internal damage?
All say you get used to it,
How soulless can you get before you're inhuman?
Impossible to find love you need,
The only thing that would create happiness,
Is to witness Armageddon.